Page 13 of Mr. Risky

His arm had migrated down now, those big fingers casually spread around her slim waist, the thumb absently rubbing up and down. Like he didn’t notice he was touching her, because their bodies were so aligned together.

I walked away, putting my flute up to parched, anxious lips. Forcing myself not to turn around. Not to betray by any sign that Granger could affect me.

Chamberlain Hollingsworth came out to greet me, and mention his son, which flustered me even more.

It felt like I was making mistake after mistake.

Goddamn Granger! I couldn’t do this every performance or I’d never find other people who wanted to hire me.

But every time I tried to focus on my job, I could feel his eyes. They sat differently on me than everybody else’s. No one else’s eyes felt like they were peeling off my skin, assessing me, measuring me. Was he wondering if I was still in love with him?

I wasn’t!

What the hell was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be feeling his gaze like this. Right down my body, pooling in the deep and shameful places in my belly, dripping down my thighs.

Somehow I managed to get through the performance, smile at the guests without throwing up or fainting.

It hadn’t gone that badly, right? For my first day, that had been good?

“Congratulations!” Pippa chirped, coming over hand-in-hand with Granger. “I found Hayden and he wants to say congratulations, too!”

Hayden was a year or two older than us, a tall, serious-faced man with short brown hair and a neatly-trimmed beard.

He was very handsome and at one time I’d had a little crush on him. But that was before Granger came to town. . .

As usual, even dressed-up Granger looked like sin and his gaze felt like degradation, the first few buttons undone on his shirt, showing just a hint of the muscles on his chest and a light dusting of hair.

“You were wonderful out there,” Hayden enthused, handing me a glass of champagne.

“I’ve really been hoping Granddaddy would ask you,” he went on. “And finally, he agreed this year. We all thought it would be so beneficial.”

Great, so everyone was talking about how poor I am. Nothing embarrassing about that.

“He’s a very stubborn man,” Granger said.

“What made him agree this year?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Granger said. “Maybe a little birdie told him you needed a job.”

Pippa flicked a glance up at him, but her smile was just as artificially big when she turned back to me.

So that was it. Was that the source of this strange undercurrent of tension I could feel? Was Granger the reason I had this job?

I didn’t even know what to say.

“To many more good performances,” Hayden toasted, and we all clinked our glasses together.

I could taste a bit of pear, an earthy hints of rosemary and thyme in there too.

I felt Granger’s eyes on me, cool and assessing, but I ignored him.

I refused to give him the satisfaction of even looking his way. Or of speculating about what he had said.

Did he expect me to be grateful that he’d pulled the strings with Chamberlain?

And for what purpose? Why? After I’d blocked his number that should have been the end of it.

I didn’t want anything he’d done out of guilt.